Time Heals
by DeniseV
Summary: This is a follow-on to my previous story "All That Mattered". Nathan gives an inch on Ezra's healing, but the gambler takes a yard, which he soon regrets.


This is a follow-up to my story "All That Mattered".

* * *

"Well, that don't look good at all," Buck Wilmington said, his handsome face full of worry.

"Nope," Vin Tanner agreed.

"Think they're gonna get into it?"

"I don't know, J.D.," Buck answered with concern.

"Chris won't let it go that far," the tracker said.

"Hell, Vin, Chris ain't even here." The jingle of spurs and the deliberate stride of the tall blond announced Chris Larabee's arrival.

"Walked right into that one, kid," the ladies man said with a sly smile.

"Oh, shut up, Buck."

"What's goin' on?" Chris asked as he took the remaining unused shot glass and filled it with whiskey. Seeing their healer sitting with the recovering member of their team worried him plenty.

"Ezra's been … imbibin' for a while. Nate's 'bout ready ta pounce," Vin offered succinctly.

"Imbibing? To excess? That ain't like Ezra," Chris noted. But then again, lots of things were different these days, like Vin's use of the word 'imbibing'. Wonder where he picked that up from?

"Not usually," Vin agreed, though he'd been on the receiving end of a drunken Ezra once, but only once. It had never happened again. Vin had learned quite clearly and emphatically how what Ezra had done had hurt the gambler, nearly as much as it had hurt the man from Texas. And if Chris wondered about where Vin had increased his vocabulary, he need look no further than the former con man. Whether it was apology or simply Ezra's penance, Vin had been the ultimate recipient of only positive things as a result of their run-in nearly three years before.

"I think he's still workin' his way back from losing Tom Arthur," Buck suggested.

"Tom's death hit him pretty hard," J.D. said, "but he's been working to make sure little Aaron and Annie got everything they need over at the Mertons." Christmas had been hard on the entire community this year.

"Including extra time with Ezra," Vin added.

"Is he supposed to be drinking yet?" Chris asked. The former gunslinger had been out at his cabin, taking some time of his own to work through what had happened. Last he'd heard, Nate hadn't given the go ahead for anything stronger than coffee. Hell, Nathan had only let the man out of his clinic four days before with instructions to do nothing but rest and heal and that he would check Ezra's status day-by-day to determine when he could increase his activities. The black man had been particularly incensed with Ezra's condition; it seemed that the healer had finally had enough of his friends ignoring his advice, and poor Ezra was the unfortunate target of his current wrath, though wrath wasn't really the right word. Maybe just over-arching concern, but with it hyper-focused on the healing southerner, all the rest of the Seven were grateful that they hadn't been the one hurt this time.

"Nate gave him the all-clear earlier today," J.D. said.

"Just for a drink, not to get back in the rotation for patrols," Chris assumed.

"Oh, yeah. Just for a drink," J.D. assured their leader.

"Reckon Nathan said _one_ drink."

"No doubt, ol' pard," Buck replied to Chris. "Nate's pretty specific 'bout that sorta thing." Chris nodded his agreement. "We better go help Ez out before Nathan gets his hands on 'im."

"I thought they worked out their differences," Chris wondered out loud.

"They did."

"That don't look much like they did, Vin," J.D. countered.

"I don't know why Nate can't jest leave 'im be. Ez ain't goin' on a bender. He jest needs to rid himself of some demons. None of us has any right to cast stones," the former bounty hunter added.

"Except maybe Nathan," Josiah Sanchez answered as he stepped up to the table. "Sheriff Willis over ta Silver Springs … ah, shit, Silver City, says they got 'em." He handed the telegram over to Chris, who read the communication, tossed it onto the table and then looked up at the former preacher.

"Not even Nathan," the leader of The Magnificent Seven said.

"Maybe you're right," Josiah answered. He added, "Keep forgettin' Silver City changed its name.

"It's hard to keep callin' yourself Silver Springs when ya ain't got water left," Buck noted. Everyone but Chris nodded their heads in agreement. He was concerned about more important things.

"No detail, except they're alive and in custody," Chris said, followed by tossing the contents of the full shot glass back in one swallow.

"They're waitin' on instructions," Josiah added, having already read the telegram on the way over. "They're a bad pair, those Pierces. Good that Sheriff Willis caught 'em. The Judge, and God, will take care of the rest.

"Let's go over … " Vin started, wanting to let Ezra know that Tom Arthur's killers had been caught, but voices had risen over in the other conversation of note in the saloon. And then Nathan swiped Ezra's shot glass full of whatever he'd been drinking clean off the table, the liquid flying through the air, the glass shattering as it landed against the banister of the staircase leading up to the rooms on the second level, Ezra's among them.

"Mistah Jackson, you owe me one dollar," Ezra stated calmly, though with a distinct tone that said the genteel southerner was close to showing his anger with the man seated before him. Ezra was slow to anger, but once he was there, it could be a dangerous thing for the person on the receiving end.

"You'll play hell gettin' it from me. Now put that away." Nathan Jackson reached for the bottle of fine Kentucky bourbon, but in spite of Ezra's clearly inebriated state, he was able to swipe the bottle to his chest before Nathan could get close enough to take it himself.

"Ah assure you, if Ah had intended for you to enjoy this nectar of the gods, Ah would have offered it to you."

"I don't want your damn liquor!" Chris and the rest of Ezra and Nathan's friends didn't like where this was heading. Leastwise, Nathan should know better than to antagonize Ezra when he's had too much to drink.

"You have an unusual way of showin' it. Ah just witnessed you attemptin' to steal it. In fact," he said, as he waved his arm towards his other brethren, "ah have witnesses."

"Now Ezra, you know Nathan ain't interested in your whiskey," Buck said good-naturedly as he took the open seat next to the former slave.

"Mistah Wilmington, it is as near to blasphemy as one can get, callin' this fine elixir whiskey. This is the finest, smoothest Kentucky bourbon known to man." Ezra was so involved in his speech, and getting the words right … quite an effort in his current state, and in keeping his bottle protected from the likes of Nathan Jackson, that the belch that exploded from the center of his being nearly shook the walls. Its strength hurt the southerner; he winced and moved the bottle to one hand as he found it necessary to rub his chest with the other. None of this, his drunken condition, the speechifying on the merits of whiskey versus bourbon, or holding his bottle as though it were a new born babe, would prevent the southerner from remembering that he was a gentleman.

"Good lord, gentlemen," he said, and then spotted Inez Recillos behind the bar, taking the last of the pine garland down. His face turned decidedly red as he added, "and dear lady. Mah apologies for such loathsome behavior."

"Think maybe that's why Nathan didn't want ya drinkin' half a bottle?" Vin asked as he attempted to remove the bottle from Ezra's grasp. Ezra fought back, the glass container partly in each man's possession several times before the tracker won this particular tug-of-war.

"Ow," the gambler said as he rubbed his chest. "Ah don't feel very well."

Chris and Nathan exchanged a glance. Chris nodded his head up toward the second story landing. He would get Ezra up there and into his room, and Nathan would join them and look their inebriated friend over to make sure he hadn't damaged his recovery. And then, in the morning, Chris and Ezra were going to talk.

* * *

Chris found Ezra exactly where he expected to find him, albeit the time of day was quite a surprise.

"Mistah Larabee," the southerner said without looking up. He raised his mug of coffee to his mouth, but quickly set it down and pushed it away.

"Hangover?"

"Dreadful."

"You wanna talk about what's bothering you?" The gambler sat at his regular table. It was barely seven in the morning. For Ezra to be up and mostly awake at that hour, there had to be something wrong. Ezra had assured all of his compatriots, more times than once, that there was no good reason to be up at such an unseemly hour of the day.

"Ah see little point in discussin' something when the whys and wherefores are so transparently obvious."

"That don't mean that there's nothing to be gained by talking about it," Chris said. Inez brought him a cup of coffee.

"Breakfast, senor?" she asked.

Chris heard a groan from the man seated at the table. The smell of the coffee alone was clearly churning Ezra's insides. The former gunslinger could imagine that the smell of eggs, ham and beans would send Ezra straight out the back door … at a run.

"Maybe later, Inez. Thanks." The pretty Mexican looked at Ezra, whose chin remained stubbornly hugging his chest. She shook her head sadly and left the two men alone, stopping as she retreated to yank the mistletoe down that Buck had surreptitiously placed at the entrance to the bar.

Chris watched his friend. For those who didn't know the man well, they might have thought that Ezra had nodded off. Chris knew better.

"You may as well sit," Ezra said.

"Why thank you for the kind invitation." Chris pulled a chair out and sat down. "You know, there was nothing you could have done differently that might have saved Tom."

"Chris, there are at least a dozen times when Tom joined our number when we should have said no. _'No, Tom, you have two young ones to concern yourself with,'_ we should have said. _'No, Tom, your children are already without a mothah. We cannot ask you to risk makin' them orphans,'_ we could have said. _'No, Tom, you do enough for the town with your veterinary knowledge and undertakin' skills,'_ we damned well should have assured him. No, Chris, Ah courteously must disagree with you. We had ample opportunities to avoid what happened, and took advantage of not one of them."

Chris turned away from Ezra's anguished face, shook his head, then turned back and said, "Look, you knew Tom as well as anyone here did. You know he would never go for that. He was a decent man and it was his nature to help."

"Well, if untimely death is the payback for being a decent, honorable man," Ezra said, choking back near tears but gathering himself quickly, "then Ah am glad Ah am not counted as one."

"Yer jest foolin' yerself if you think that's true," Vin said as he walked up to the table and took a seat. "Yer one of the best men I know. All yer attempts at directin' people away from that fact ain't workin'. Not any more." Vin looked to Chris and asked silently if he'd told Ezra yet about the Pierces being caught. Chris shook his head slightly. Ezra rolled his eyes, and looked from Chris to Vin; he recognized a stone wall when he saw one. Hell, he thought he used to be a pretty good impersonation of one himself. He was losing his touch, growing soft. He wondered if this is what happened, when a town grew to mean something to a person, when the adults and the children found a way into a formerly cold heart. Maybe that's why he still hurt.

"You're still healing and you're still upset. You're not looking at things clearly. And you're sure not looking at yourself objectively." Chris studied Ezra's reaction. "They caught the Pierces. They're in jail over in Silver Springs."

"Silver City," Ezra corrected.

Vin and Chris shared another glance, and Chris ignored being corrected. "Give it some more time. What happened is still raw, and the kids have to be a reminder of what happened." Chris suggested. Ezra returned a glare, warning anyone from suggesting that the gambler should spend less time with two newly orphaned children that he had grown particularly fond of, as he had of their father. "Nobody's sayin' that you shouldn't spend time with Annie and Aaron, and help the Mertons. We all want to do the same." Chris made sure Ezra was looking and listening when he added once again, "Just give it time."

Ezra knew that Chris was right. Chris Larabee was the very embodiment of the saying 'Time heals all wounds', as he continued to live his new life, which looked more and more likely to include Mary and Billy Travis in a more permanent way, as he kept his dead wife and son in his heart. But he couldn't show that emotion, the fact that how Chris had abided by that saying was an inspiration to the former con man. No, that would never do, at least not yet, not now, when there were moments every day when all he wanted to do was cry for the loss of such a good man, when his chest, nearly healed from the injury to his lung, hurt more at times as he watched two young children struggle to overcome the loss of their father, of how painful their lives must now be, having lived through the death of their mother only because Tom Arthur was such a good father.

So, rather than reveal those emotions, he snorted out a laugh. "Good lord. That is quite a speech for … " Ezra pulled his pocket watch out to check, " … seven and ten in the morning." He stopped talking as he saw Nathan come through the batwing doors. "Perfect," he muttered softly.

"He's only lookin' ta help," Vin said, not sure exactly who he was trying to assure with the comment.

"Ah know," Ezra admitted. "But if memory serves, Ah behaved abysmally last evening."

"Nathan didn't act much better, and he didn't have your excuse," Chris noted with a wry smile.

"A poor excuse to be sure," Ezra replied. To Nathan he said, "Good day, good sir."

"Need to check you over," the Negro healer said.

"Yes, no need for niceties," Ezra countered evenly.

"Fellas," Chris started.

"I ain't got time for '_niceties'_, Ezra," Nathan said, using Ezra's word with contempt. Vin slammed his hand down on the table. Everyone jumped.

"Nathan, why you bein' like this? If ya got somethin' against Ez, let's get it out in the open. He's been through somethin' here. Lost a good friend, even if he won't admit it." Vin locked eyes with Ezra, the gambler giving a slight nod of thank you for the acknowledgment of loss and pain, and whatever the hell was going on with Nathan. To Nathan, Vin said, "Maybe you don't realize that b'cause Tom took your place a lot of the time. Well, Tom's gone now and it leaves a hole. J'siah knows it, Tom covered for you two … a lot. If you can't see that then yer, hell, I don't know what you are. Ya sher aren't actin' the best, considerin' the time of year an' all."

"Mistah Tanner," Ezra said, trying to calm his clearly agitated friend, but Nathan didn't let him finish.

"No, Ezra. Vin's right. And I'm ashamed to admit that it would probably have gone on if Vin hadn't called me on it. I apologize, Ezra. I think maybe I've been feelin' left out. Ain't a good reason to act out, I know. Tom stepped in, did a good job. Felt like, sometimes, I wasn't needed no more."

"Ah can vouch for the fact that you are very much needed here, Nathan," Ezra said as he subconsciously rubbed his chest.

"You hurtin'?" the healer asked.

Ezra stopped the motion. "No. At least, not mah lung. You have done excellent work, and Ah will endeavor not to sabotage our success again in that regard."

"I know Tom's dying was hard for you," Nathan said.

"A tragic loss," Ezra said, his head back down as he looked at his now cold cup of coffee.

"Yeah, but I think I could have been better about how I handled it. Didn't mean to have you thinkin' I didn't care."

"You always have your hands full, Nathan. Ah would nevah assume that you didn't have deep feelings about loss of life, whatever the circumstance. You are far too compassionate of a man to evah think otherwise."

This time Nathan's head was bowed. "Thank you for that, Ezra."

"Now then. Since you are here to 'check me over', and Ah got nowhere near the sleep that Ah require, shall we head up to mah room for this examination?"

"You should probably eat something if you're going back to sleep," the healer recommended.

Inez walked out at that moment with a tray containing toast, jam and coffee.

"Mah dear, you are too kind, but Ah fear that Ah cannot … "

"You should try," she said earnestly, and with a slight blush, followed quickly with, "as Nathan said."

Ezra smiled and said, "You are very attentive, and far too kind, senorita."

"It is nothing, senor," she said. "I will place this on the dresser in your room." And then she was gone.

"Did Inez seem … " Ezra started. His friends watched, wondering. But Ezra shrugged his shoulder and added for himself, quietly, "No." He stood and walked ahead of Nathan up the stairs. Vin and Chris shared a look.

"Give it time," the former gunslinger said, followed by, "Have some breakfast?" The two men sat and waited for Inez to return, with the full knowledge that life would go on, at its own pace.

The End.


End file.
